


Red//White

by Bexless



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-30
Updated: 2011-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bexless/pseuds/Bexless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank watches Gerard put make-up on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red//White

**Author's Note:**

> Porn I wrote for a challenge. Many thanks to Wax, Cim and Imogenedisease!

“This is weird,” Frank says, watching their reflection in the mirror. “It’s weird because like, I’m right here.”

“Well, you did say you wanted to watch.” Gerard reaches around Frank to dig in the open bag in the sink. “You pretty much need to be here for that.”

“I know, but in my head I usually watch from like, the shadows, or whatever.”

Gerard-in-the-mirror gives him a flat-mouthed look. “The shadows.”

“Or whatever.” Frank rubs his hands against his thighs. “No shadows in here though, huh.”

“Frank.” Gerard finds what he needs in the bag and spreads his free hand out over Frank’s stomach, pressing down a little, warm and firm. “You’re kind of twitchy. Er. Than usual.”

Frank closes his eyes and leans back into Gerard, turning his face and resting his forehead on Gerard’s ear. “I’m nervous.”

Gerard just holds him for a minute, rubbing his hand from side-to-side a little. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me do it before.”

“I know.” Frank has seen Gerard do it a thousand times, of course, but, “This is different.”

“Yeah.” Gerard’s hand on Frank’s stomach moves in a slow circle, comforting and familiar, but the hard bathroom light bounces off what he’s holding in his other hand in a sharp slice. “So, should I just go for it all at once, or start off slow, or what?”

Frank presses his lips to Gerard’s throat briefly, just to feel the pulse beat under the skin once, twice, then he stands up straight. “Just do it how you would if you were alone,” he says, gripping the edge of the sink with both hands. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

“Not as easy as you might think,” Gerard says quietly, and in the mirror his face disappears behind Frank’s head and then Frank feels a kiss on the back of his neck, and shivers. “Mmm. Okay.”

Frank watches Gerard look down, doing something Frank can’t see behind his back, and he can’t help pressing against the edge of the basin a little, already hard, wanting something warm and yielding to rock into, wanting Gerard. Then Gerard looks up again, and meets his eyes in the mirror.

“Okay,” he says again, and lifts his hand to his mouth.

He’s sort of business-like about it, painting his bottom lip with one smooth sweep, then following the sweet dip and curve of his upper lip more carefully. He doesn’t look at Frank until he’s done, until he’s replaced the cap and put the tube back in the bag.

“Oh,” Frank says faintly, when Gerard finally looks up and meets his eyes in the mirror. “Oh.”

It’s just red, nothing Frank hasn’t seen before, but the bathroom lights cast a blue-ish tone over it, making Gerard’s mouth look bruised, raw. Heavy, somehow.

“Well,” Gerard says, and Frank watches his lips move, “Is it, I mean. What now?”

“Say it.”

“What?”

“You _know_ ,” Frank says, and pushes back against Gerard, watching Gerard’s eyelids flutter and his little pink tongue come out to wet his red, red lips in the centre of his smooth, pale, face. “Come on.”

Gerard laughs a little bit, sideways, breathless, but then he meets Frank’s eyes again and says, “I was definitely into it.”

Frank whines and turns around, shoving his hands into Gerard’s hair and pulling him close, pressing their foreheads together. Gerard gets his hands under Frank’s thighs and lifts him up, so he’s sitting on the cold, hard edge of the basin, legs tight around Gerard’s hips as Gerard rocks into him, once, twice.

“Frankie,” Gerard breathes, and he tilts his head and leans in.

Frank tightens his grip on Gerard’s hair and backs off a fraction. Gerard frowns and tries to lean in again but Frank pulls back, staying out of reach, Gerard’s mouth inches from his own, painted and perfect. “Frank, what-”

“I don’t want to spoil it,” Frank says, arching his back to feel Gerard’s cock, hard against his own through their jeans. They both groan. “I don’t. I want.”

“What, what?” Gerard’s hands move restlessly under Frank’s shirt, down to cup his ass, hold him more firmly against Gerard. “Can I blow you?”

Frank shudders and pants, and shoves his hips against Gerard’s one more time before letting him go, sliding down to get his feet back on the floor as Gerard goes down on his knees. Gerard’s hands don’t shake when he undoes Frank’s belt, when he pops the buttons on his jeans and works them down over Frank’s hips.

“Wait,” Frank holds Gerard’s face in his hands, pushing his hair back, tracing the curve of his eyebrow with his thumb. Gerard blinks up at him, eyes hot and two spots of color burning high on his cheeks, and his mouth, slack and eager and red, for Frank. Frank presses his thumb into the dent under Gerard’s bottom lip. “You look.”

Gerard holds his gaze for a second, caught in Frank’s hands like that. Then he shuffles forward and puts his hands on Frank’s hips.

Frank does not look away, and he does not miss the way Gerard’s eyes close and the way his lips are red and the way they part and slide down over Frank’s dick. The rim of the basin is cold and rigid against Frank’s spine, but Gerard’s mouth is hot and wet and so eager and his cheeks hollow when he sucks, casting wide stripes of shadow from his mouth to his temples.

Frank slides one hand into Gerard’s hair, loving Gerard’s little moan of pleasure, the wet hum in his mouth. Gerard takes him down slow but steady, hands tight on Frank’s hips, lips tight around his cock. Frank traces the seam with his thumb, pushing in slightly to feel the rasp of Gerard’s tongue.

His thumb comes away wet and smeared with red, and Frank snaps his hips forward without even thinking about it.

Gerard doesn’t flinch or pull back or _stop_ , God forbid, he just moans again and sucks harder and tugs at Frank’s hips, encouraging. Frank rocks back and then forwards again, and takes his hands off Gerard to grab the basin behind him, brace himself so he can do this right, fuck Gerard’s mouth like they both want.

Gerard tilts his head back slightly, taking everything Frank gives him, and the light is harsh on his face, casting faint purple shadows over his eyelids, his eyelashes black and sharp against his cheeks.

Frank is pushed back, suddenly, Gerard’s hands pinning him against the basin and Frank wants to move, wants to keep fucking Gerard’s wonderful mouth but Gerard just holds him, waiting while Frank shakes and bites his lip so he won’t start begging, and then he slides down further and swallows, and swallows, until Frank is caught all the way in the back of his throat.

“ _Gerard_ ,” Frank gasps, blinking against the rushing in his ears, and Gerard swallows again and Frank feels it as a soft squeeze that’s too good to bear, and then Gerard opens his eyes and they are dark and wide and he swallows and swallows and Frank can’t look away, can’t stop the noises coming out of his mouth, can’t stop shaking under Gerard’s strong hands and his clever mouth.

When he comes, it feels like it goes on forever, every wave and surge and aftershock magnified a million percent by the grip of Gerard’s throat. Frank’s knees are weak but Gerard is strong, stronger than he looks by far and he holds Frank steady, holds him up until he stops shaking, and then Gerard pulls off slowly, gently, and rests his forehead against Frank’s stomach.

Frank pants raggedly, loud in his own ears, and the minute Gerard lets go of him he slides ungracefully to his knees.

“You,” he says, and he grabs Gerard’s face and kisses him, pushes his tongue into Gerard’s hot, salty mouth, his red lips just a little waxy and slick against Frank’s own.

Gerard is suddenly frantic, biting at Frank’s mouth and trying to get his own jeans undone with shaking hands. Frank knocks them away and does it himself, shoving his hand in to wrap around Gerard’s cock, hot and sticky, he’s so close, and it only takes a few seconds before Gerard is coming, his hands cupped around Frank’s face, crying out into his mouth.

They rest against each other for a while, knees on the white tiled floor.

“Dude,” Gerard says eventually. “You have to tell me about your weird fantasies more often.”

“Um, no.” Frank sits back on his heels and looks seriously at Gerard. “We’re not going to talk about that, we’re going to discuss your whole little, ‘I can fall back on a lucrative career in the porn industry, should any of my other talents fail me’ thing, there.”

Gerard looks sort of embarrassed and proud at the same time. He even has the gall to _blush_ , like he isn’t sitting there with fucking, fucking _lipstick_ all over his face and come all over his jeans, and he didn’t just siphon off half Frank’s brain cells through his dick. “Oh, well. I don’t have much of a gag reflex, I guess?”

Frank stares at him. “Uh huh.”

Gerard grins. Then he touches Frank’s arm and says, “Was it, I mean. The lipstick thing, was it how you imagined?”

“Better,” Frank tells him, and he _really_ means it. He leans forward and kisses Gerard again, and he probably has lipstick all over his face too, but he doesn’t care. “I feel a little inadequate though, maybe.”

Gerard strokes his face distractedly. “Hmm, what?” Then he gets it and leans back to look Frank in the eye, shaking his head. “No, Frank, you’re – you don’t need to do that.”

“But I want to,” Frank says, pushing himself up to stand on still-shaky legs. He pulls up his pants and then holds out a hand to Gerard. “I want it to be amazing like that for you, too.”

“It is,” Gerard takes his hand and scrambles up. “Frankie, come on. It is. You are.”

He’s looking worriedly into Frank’s eyes, so Frank pulls him close again, wraps his arms around him and kisses the side of his face, his jaw, his ear. “I still want to learn.”

Gerard squeezes him and then steps back, rummaging in the bag in the sink. Frank really hopes it’s for something that gets off lipstick, because they both look like really debauched clowns right now. Christ.

“I’m not, you know, opposed to the idea,” Gerard mumbles, his hair in his face.

Frank steps up behind him, reaches around to do up Gerard’s jeans, scraping his nails slightly over the skin above the waistband, smiling when it makes Gerard hiss. “Good. Because I’d hate to find someone else to practice on.”

“Yeah, man, that would suck,” Gerard says, sounding totally unconcerned. He looks up and smiles at Frank in the mirror, quickly.

Frank smiles back. Then he cracks up. “Dude, I don’t even know what we look like.”

Gerard laughs too, and turns around and tugs Frank to stand between Gerard’s feet. “Here.”

Frank stands still, and lets Gerard clean him up.


End file.
